As Rhaena had promised, a revised version of the annul A Song of Ice and Fire was written to better provide to truth to future generations. In order to know the truth from those who were otherwise no longer alive to relate their tales or simply refused to give the truth, Rhaena spent the evenings sitting beside Bran as he looked into the past and told her all that he saw. Soon enough the book had more than doubled in size, though Sam seemed quite delighted by the fact as he made numerous notes and amended numerous passages which were either exaggerated, misconstrued or outright false. Most of all Rhaena ensured that all the unsung heroes were given their due, chiefly Tyrion, and even had mention of Bronn and Sandor Clegane so that they were not forgotten. She had sat many long hours with Sam, recounting her own history which was to be recorded in a book of her very own, detailing the early years of her life and her subsequent actions, achievements and experiences. She revealed many terrible things that had been done to her, most of them having left Sam horrified and gaping, so much so that Rhaena would have to gently remind him to write down her words so that they were not forgotten. Not wishing for her own life to be diminished, Rhaena held nothing back and was entirely truthful, even recounting the times when Jaime, Ser Arys and Ser Barristan would come to her rescue so that their efforts did not go unmentioned.
The work would take many months, years even, to fully detail the events following the death of Robert Baratheon, though some things Rhaena kept a secret. She would tell the truth one day, perhaps. One day when it did not matter whether or not she was punished for her own crimes, so that the truth may be written into account, but until then Rhaena saw no reason to disturb the peace which had settled over the kingdoms. After all, there was still a great deal of work to do. Her drawings and designs for the city had been met with thorough approval with the intention of providing more. They began from the ground up, starting with the sewer systems in order to provide better sanitation for the city. Builders were summoned from every corner of Westeros, and whilst they set to work upon the city, means to make the coin required to pay the workers, buy supplies and also purchase grain enough to feed their people were sought. Shockingly, Bronn proved quite adept at managing the royal treasury and thus far, not a single copper had gone missing. It was difficult to make money when there was little enough left after numerous wars and raiding from both land and sea, but he managed to keep it from utterly depleting.
Accounts were made to detail all the lords and ladies of the kingdoms, describing their arms, their House words, their holdfast, their lands, wealth and such. The truth of the matter was that some houses had been wiped out altogether, meaning there were a number of lands and titles now vacant. Bronn saw this as an opportunity. For those who had the means, they could buy the empty lands, the abandoned castles and keeps, as well as the title to accompany such possessions. There were traders and merchants who had thrived upon the many wars and their own coffers were overflowing with gold. It seemed a simple and painless way to add to the royal treasury, and so Bran agreed to allowing titles to be bought. Many merchants leaped at the chance once word had spread, presenting themselves to court with expensive gifts from their wares to offer to the king and his Small Council in the hope of being chosen to buy their way to nobility. Rhaena herself became showered in bolts of silk and Myrish lace, with perfumes, oils and jewels, ropes of pearls and jars of vibrant spices. One merchant even offered her one of his ships, claiming to have become utterly enthralled by her beauty and proclaimed that he would willingly part with his most prized possession all for a single smile. Soon Rhaena began to have no space to place her gifts, boxes, chests and cases filling her chambers until she could not turn around without tripping over one of them. Bronn had laughed to see her so overwhelmed. "Don't refuse any, no one should ever turn down a free gift." He had said to her as he flicked open one of the chests to find it bursting with gold, silver, jewels and pearls.
"If I receive any more gifts, I shall soon be sleeping upon a bed of sapphires and walking upon carpets of lace. Put those down, Bronn. I asked you here to help me count everything and move these things to the treasury. They can be stored there and sold for coin. I have no need for so much." Clicking his tongue in disapproval, Bronn ignored Rhaena and instead lifted the long string of creamy pearls he had picked up in order to drape them around her, observing as they draped against her breasts and coiled around her neck.
"There are worse things to sleep on than sapphires." He told her simply, enjoying the spark of Rhaena's frustrated indignation as she placed her hands upon her hips.
"Will you please try to focus, even for just two moments strung together?" Chuckling, Bronn promised that he would try, looking around him as Rhaena pulled the pearls from her and replaced them in the chest they had arrived in. He himself had not suffered without some choice gifts, including a fine collection of wines from Dorne, the Arbour and other such vintages. However, Rhaena seemed to be the favoured one amongst the merchants and foreigners who came to put their names forward to receive lands and titles. Who could blame them? Rhaena remained the loveliest creature of all, unearthly in her appearance and solely unique. Many offers had marriage had also accompanied these gifts, some men forgetting their original purpose in coming to King's Landing in favour of pursuing Rhaena herself, preferring to have her for a wife than owning land and a title of their own. Again, Bronn was not unable to see why, nor blame them for the enchanted fools that they were. It was difficult enough to keep them from trailing after her at all hours of the day, proclaiming their love and promising her the world. Were it not for Jaime keeping them at bay, some might have been more forward in their attentions. One had even tried. Claiming insanity born from lovesickness, some foreign prick had thrown himself at Rhaena whilst her arms had been full of scrolls and books, therefore unable to throw him away from her. Bronn had grasped her arm and deftly yanked her aside so that the foreigner had stripped and fallen with a sharp crack to his chin which had caused a split to open and many of his teeth to crack. He had not remained long in King's Landing after such humiliation. Recalling such events, Bronn found his mind had wandered even as he returned himself to focus, realising that Rhaena was still speaking to him. "…ronn…Bronn…Bronn!" He blinked at her.
"Yes, my princess?" Realising that he had not been listening to a word she had said, Rhaena threw up her hands in surrender and dropped down onto one of the chests in order to sit.
"You are exhausting."
"Many women have said the same, though I'll admit, it's usually because I've worn them out by other means." Shooting him an unimpressed glower, Bronn grinned as he also took a seat upon one of the chests, one full of exotic animal pelts. "Don't fret little lass, I'll have some lads bring these things out like you asked. I'll keep them carefully counted since they're yours. They won't go missing, I give my word." Softening a little, Rhaena nodded her head obligingly before giving a longwinded sigh.
"It still will not be enough, will it?" She said to Bronn as she thought of the endless mouths they would need to feed over the winter. Because of the war, the harvests had mostly either been stolen or destroyed. Very little of it had been taken into storage in preparation for the cold years to come. "We need more funds."
"Aye, but you leave those worries to me. Don't fuss your pretty little head over it. I am the Master of Coin, after all." Unable to help herself, Rhaena laughed as she did each time Bronn reminded her of his title. It appears Bronn truly did have a secret talent for making coin without having to borrow it. He had made suggestions for new taxes and tolls, some of which had been accepted, such as a landing tax upon merchant ships. If a ship wished to make port, it was required to pay a tax before it was allowed to dock, and business carried out. This was one of the rare occasions that Ser Davos and Bronn had come to an agreement without a great deal of arguing. They did seem to ruffle one another's feathers; it was another thing which made Rhaena laughed. It was good to laugh again. For some time, Rhaena thought she might have lost the ability to feel any sense of joy or happiness, but slowly it was coming back to her. Best of all were the times she flew with Rhaegal through the skies, allowing herself to toss all cares and woes into the winds as Rhaegal outflew them with powerful beats of his wings. Some had wanted to put him into the dragon pit, but in that regard, Rhaena had blankly refused. She would not chain Rhaegal as her forebears had done with their dragons. He was her lifeblood and her dearest companion. She would never betray him in such a manner, so instead, Rhaegal lived mostly upon Dragonstone where he was charged with ensuring that Cersei did not escape.
Already she had made several attempts, but with guards such as the Unsullied who were impervious to charm or bribery, she was yet to succeed in anything more than simply attempting to run from them whilst on her daily walks. It had been a foolish attempt and Rhaena had snorted when she read the message brought to her by raven by Maester Pylos before tearing it apart and tossing it into the fire. Where could she go to escape from an island, in any case? Did she expect to swim all the way back to land? She would sooner drown. No, Rhaena had no fear of Cersei slipping through her fingers, and so gave her little other thought than to simply reply to Maester Pylos to continue his good work and thanking him for his raven. Not once had Jaime requested leave to go visit his sister, and Rhaena had long since stopped offering. He did not wish to see her, and so Rhaena had no intention of pressing the issue. Instead, Jaime focused his time upon Myrcella, who had chosen to remain in King's Landing for a time before returning to Dorne. Nothing had made Jaime happier when Myrcella had informed him of her decision to remain behind, to be with him until the time of her wedding, which was to be held soon. Now that the war was over, there was nothing to stop Myrcella from marrying Trystane Martell. At the very least, Rhaena had plenty of bride gifts to offer the young woman. She was certainly not lacking in that department.
With all other matters proceeding so smoothly, it was only the concern of coin and food which truly kept Rhaena awake at night. Despite Bronn's reassurances, it pressed upon her mind. Long and hard did she think, hours at a time considering other means to make coin without first having to spend it, until finally as if by a stroke of genius, it came to her. How was coin made? How did anyone bolster their profits and increase their standing? It was by selling their resources. They were already selling lands, castles and titles, natural resources that were easy to give and cost nothing to the crown, but what else did they have? The answer was simple. Bran. They had an invaluable resource right upon their fingertips in the form of his knowledge. If something existed in history, Bran knew of it. He knew the truth of secrets and of things long since forgotten. They had perhaps an inexhaustible means to generate coin by selling what Bran had to offer. Why not use it? So, at the very next Small Council meeting, Rhaena presented her plan to her fellow councilmembers and Bran himself, explaining that there were many people in both Westeros and Essos who would pay to know the truth of history and have their questions answered. "Just think, the maesters could finally learn the answers that have plagued them for centuries. History lost to time can be rediscovered. More so, perhaps the most valuable source of information we have to offer…the secrets of forgotten magic." Everyone stared at her, but Rhaena was undeterred as she continued to strive forwards. "No one alive knows the secret to forging new Valyrian steel blades. What if we could look back into the past and pluck that knowledge directly from the source? There are maegi and wizards, warlocks and magicians aplenty who would pay a king's ransom for such treasure."
"Is that possible? Can such a thing be done?" Sam questioned with a furrowed brow as all then looked towards Bran, who sat in quiet contemplation until he raised his head to look upon Rhaena.
"It is." With such certainty, the prospect of refilling the royal treasury was too good a chance to ignore. The Iron Bank had sent many messengers demanding that the crown repay its debts to them, however Bronn had quite curtly and with no sense of political tact, had told them to fuck off. The Iron Throne was no more. Drogon and Rhaegal had seen to that. With this view, Bronn had determined that the newly reformed kingdoms of Westeros had no debt to the Iron Bank, and that they should have demanded their payment when Cersei had still been queen. The messenger had turned quite purple, stammering at the audacity of the uncouth man before him that the bank had indeed attempted to reclaim the queen's debts, but the funds had been stolen from her by the Dragon Queen herself. As such, the debt now fell upon their heads. Bronn continued to disagree, simply refusing to pay back a single coin since neither he nor the current king had ever borrowed from the bank. The representative of the bank might have left in a whirlwind of fury had Rhaena not arrived and used her charms to placate him, calming him of his ire and taking over the negotiations. It had taken many hours, but eventually she was able to convince the man from Braavos that the current monarchy did not owe anything to the Iron Bank, but as a gesture of goodwill, would purchase a tenth of the total debt and repay it in annual instalments over a course of ten years. Once the term had ended, then they would revisit the contract and review the arrangement, Rhaena even hinting that perhaps by that time, Cersei Lannister might be of a means to pay back the debt herself. Their guest left satisfied, bowing as he left whereby Rhaena and Bronn both poured a cup of wine to moisten their throats from all their talking. That had perhaps been the most arduous discussion to date.
"I still don't see why we have to pay back anything. Throw Cersei to them and let them take back their debt in flesh and blood, I say." Bronn stated before throwing back his drink in a single gulp, sighing with satisfaction at the rich taste.
"Because we need to maintain good relations with Essos. We will need to buy grain, meat and provisions from them to have any hope of surviving the winter. If we outrightly refused the Iron Bank, then they would not force us to repay them. They would, however, stop any transactions occurring between our kingdoms and Essos. No one would dare defy the Iron Bank when so many merchants and traders depend upon it. We would starve, and then we would die." Not having considered such repercussions, Bronn saluted his cup to Rhaena after he had filled it once again.
"This is why I leave the politics to the likes of you and the little lord." Toasting her own cup in reply, Rhaena sipped at it delicately. "What did you mean though? When you said Cersei might pay back the debt by herself someday? Don't see how that's going to happen whilst she's cooped up in a tower, or even without her head if it ever came to it." Now Rhaena allowed herself to smirk, eyes dancing with pleasure at her own thoughts.
"If there was one thing Cersei was ever good at, it was spreading her legs. I imagine many a man would pay a fortune to tumble the sheets with a former queen." At first Bronn was surprised that such a notion would ever occur to Rhaena, whom he had always seen as a kind-hearted and gentle soul. It was moments such as these that he was reminded that this was not entirely true. Rhaena had a ruthless streak in her, one that allowed her to make difficult decisions and exact revenge upon her enemies. Bronn admired it, so after he had overcome his surprise, saluted his cup once again in approval of such a method. If it filled the royal coffers, then he was not of a mind to refuse any such means that would fill them quicker. They drank their toast then returned to their work, for as always, there was mountains of tasks to be done.